I’m 22 years old - that’s almost 30, and I still haven’t accepted that this is my life. And I just wish that I could be dumb. And then I wouldn’t know better and I could be happy and stop hoping. And I’m telling you this like you’re interested in my boring life.
the possibility of falling in love.
the single most terrifying thought.
falling into the depths of a constant state of sadness and happiness.
sadness of wonder, of endless possibilities and outcomes.
happiness of simply love and discoveries.
my bones ache when realizing this is only temporary.
you leaving me is only inevitable.
and what comes after that?
the complete and excruciating feeling of numbness.
the empty smiles mean nothing compared to my sparkling eyes when you told me “you loved me”.
but how could I be so naive.
you leaving and tearing a piece away from me, just for you.
that was my best piece.
and I have nothing more to offer except this empty pain of nothing.